Au Jus — A Broth Made From What’s Here, Flavored With What’s Coming

The garden is in. March in Savannah, and I am on my knees in the dirt for the first time since the knee surgery, and the new knee is holding, and the old knee is holding, and the earth is soft and ready and I am planting the ninth season of this garden with a baby on the way and tomatoes in the ground and the kind of hope that only comes from putting seeds in dirt and believing they'll grow.

Cherokee Purples: in. Sapelo peppers, seventh generation: in. Okra: in. Butter beans: in. Basil, thyme, rosemary: in. And the watermelon. I planted the watermelon in the sunniest corner, the way Mrs. Lucille said, and I gave it room, and I talked to it. "Watermelon," I said, kneeling in the dirt like a woman praying to a seed, "I have tried to grow you six times and you have failed me every time. This is your last chance. I am sixty-nine years old and I do not have infinite patience. Grow." The watermelon did not respond. I am choosing to interpret the silence as agreement.

Kayla came to help with the planting. She's ten weeks pregnant, not showing yet, but there's something different about her — a glow, people say, and I've always thought "glow" was a nice word for "exhausted and nauseous," but Kayla does have something. A settledness. A calm. Like the ground she's kneeling on — ready, receptive, waiting to produce.

We planted side by side. I showed her where the tomatoes go (full sun, morning light, not too close to the peppers). She showed me a photo of the ultrasound — a grainy black-and-white image that looked like a weather map of a very small storm. "That's the baby," she said. I looked at the storm on the screen and I saw — or I chose to see — Michael's chin. Michael's stubborn, beautiful, permanently-twenty-seven chin. "I see Michael," I said. Kayla said, "Me too, Granny. Me too."

Made garden vegetable soup tonight. Not from this garden — this garden is just seedlings and hope — but from the winter greens that survived and the pantry staples that sustain. A soup made from what's here while we wait for what's coming. That is the definition of faith: cooking with what you have while you plant what you need.

Now go on and feed somebody.

The thyme and rosemary are just seedlings right now — barely an inch out of the ground — but they’re coming, and I know what I’m going to do with them when they arrive. In the meantime, the dry sprigs in the pantry do just fine, and this au jus is proof of that. It’s the same lesson as the garden: you work with what’s here, you tend it carefully, and something worth savoring comes out the other side. Make it alongside a pot roast or a good beef sandwich, and let those herbs do what they were planted to do.

Au Jus

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 2 cups beef broth (low sodium preferred)
• 1/2 cup dry red wine (or substitute additional broth)
• 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tablespoon soy sauce
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 sprig fresh rosemary (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• Pan drippings from roasted beef, skimmed of excess fat (optional but recommended)
• Salt to taste

Instructions

1. Deglaze the pan. If you have pan drippings from a roast, place the roasting pan over medium heat. Pour in the red wine and use a wooden spoon to scrape up any browned bits from the bottom — that’s where the flavor lives. If you have no drippings, start with a small saucepan over medium heat and proceed with the wine.
2. Build the broth. Add the beef broth, Worcestershire sauce, and soy sauce. Stir to combine.
3. Add aromatics. Drop in the garlic, rosemary, and thyme. Add black pepper. Stir once and let the herbs settle in.
4. Simmer and reduce. Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to medium-low. Simmer uncovered for 15 to 18 minutes, until the liquid has reduced by about one-quarter and the flavor has deepened.
5. Taste and season. Remove from heat. Fish out the herb sprigs. Taste and add salt only if needed — the Worcestershire and soy bring plenty. If the broth feels too thin, return to heat for another 3 to 5 minutes.
6. Strain and serve. Pour through a fine mesh strainer into a warmed pitcher or serving bowl. Serve immediately alongside sliced beef, a roast, or a good French dip sandwich.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 28 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 1g | Carbs: 3g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 390mg